


In Between

by thereforebucket



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Domestic, Other, in which LaFerry has a kid, set between 10 and 15 years in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereforebucket/pseuds/thereforebucket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah, it's not like you haven't raised a non-binary kid before," you joke.</p>
<p>"Yes, but those," she says, leaning over to peck you on the lips, "were completely different circumstances."</p>
<p>"And ain't I glad for it."</p>
<p>"Grammar, LaFontaine."<br/>-----<br/>LaFontaine and Perry realize that parenthood is full of (not quite) surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Between

"Mommy?" she says one night while you're making lunches. Perry won't let you cook anything more than rice because of this one time at your old apartment when you got a little too excited about the stove flame, but you both agree you can't burn the house down making pb&j.  
  
"What is it, Kiddo?" you reply, spreading a liberal amount of peanut butter (organic) onto the (whole wheat) bread. (Perry does the shopping. If you want junk food, it's up to you to go get it.)  
  
Devon picks at her sleeve. She's in her pjs, the blue ones with the robots you picked out together, and her hair is wet from the bath she just took. "You're not really a girly girl, right Mommy?" She's not looking at you and she looks worried, her lips pursing like Perry's.  
  
You set the knife down beside the sandwich and turn around, leaning against the counter to face your daughter. "I'm not really any kind of girl. Or boy really. I'm kind of in between."  
  
"I know that," she says, rolling her eyes. "That's what I was trying to say. You're not a girly girl, and you're not a tomboy, and you're not a boy, you're somewhere in between." You nod, having an inkling as to where this is going.  
  
Devon squirms, looking down at the floor. Her face is red and her lips are pursed together and she looks like she's about to tear a hole in her sleeve. "Well, I--uh--I think I'm kinda in between too," she stammers out, then looks up at you, fear in her eyes (the same color blue as Perry's).  
  
You're not surprised. Devon exhibited a lot of the same traits as you did growing up. She loved dressing up, but she never wanted to dress up in a princess dress or in fake-muscled super-hero costumes. Whenever people (your mother) gave her Barbies for her birthday, she would dress them up in the least girly outfits she had and they would go on "totally super-sweet adventures," usually to go fight dragons. She liked to wear her hair short and her favorite outfit was this Peter Pan costume that Perry made her for Halloween one year. Devon also has this huge thing for robots. That's not really a sign of "in-between-ness," it's just really cute. She's even got this robot toy she sleeps with every night. Perry doesn't like it because it leaves a mark in the morning from where she's pressed her face into it, but "Robro" (you totally named that robot) is here to stay. Anyway, Devon showed the same signs you did as a kid, it's just that your eight-year-old came to the conclusion a lot earlier than you because of the family she was raised in.  
  
So you put on small, warm smile and crouch down in front of her. "Ok," you say.  
  
"Ok?!?" she asks, confused that you would be so calm about this. She definitely inherited Perry's tendency to overthink things.  
  
"Ok," you say back, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You know this doesn't change my view of you or anything, right?"  
  
You see the relief pass over her face and your heart swells. You know that feeling, that feeling of panic before coming out to your parents, your grandparents...Perry. You actually told Perry first. Perry's been the closest person to you since you realized that she was the only person who wouldn't _really_ judge you for anything. (She pretends to, though, when you don't screw the cap back on the toothpaste or leave your clothes on the floor.) You were still terrified to tell her, but she got it, and she got it even better after a sleepless night of research. You love your wife.  
  
Devon swallows. "Really?" she asks in a small voice.  
  
"Really," you tell her, and she shuffles forward into your arms. She clings to you like you're a life preserver and just hold her for as long as she needs. You tear up, marveling at how brave your daughter is and how awesome it is she trusted you enough to tell you about her being non-binary. Dev's crying too, you think mostly out of relief, but partially out of fear, because what's ahead is uncharted territory, scary stuff.  
  
"Hey," you say, rubbing her back, "I'm really proud of you. What you just did was a really brave thing to do. And don't worry. Luckily for you, you have the best mentors around living in the same house as you."  
  
"Mentors?" she asks, confused. She knows Perry's cis as well as you do.  
  
"Yeah, mentors. Who do you think taught me all about being non-binary? I mean, I did some reading up, sure, but Mama went out of her way to figure out exactly what non-binary was and what places were safe for non-binary people and found all these pronouns and news stories and stuff like that, not to mention all the books and shows with non-binary characters. I swear your Mama knows more about it then I do."  
  
The two of you laugh a little, then Devon stiffens up. "Oh no. I have to tell Mama," she says.  
  
You pull back from her and look her in the eyes. "Devon, the most important thing about all of this is that you tell people when you feel comfortable telling them, ok?" She nods. "But," you add, "let me just say that you don't need to worry about what Mama thinks. Mama loves you and that will never change, ok? And she might need a day to process this, but hey, your mother needed a day to process me proposing to her, and we've been like, a total married couple since the third grade." You roll your eyes to make her giggle and it works.  
  
After a second, though, she stops giggling and purses her lips again. "I don't have to tell her tonight, do I?"  
  
"No, no!" you assure her. "The most important thing is to tell people when you're ready. If you need a little bit of time to tell Mama, that's totally fine." You pat her shoulder. "Just don't wait too long, y'know? Mama's cool. Also, the sooner you tell her the sooner we can start figuring out things like pronouns and other cool non-binary stuff!"  
  
"Ok," she says, her voice a little shaky. "Hey Mommy?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Non-binary's in-between, right?"  
  
"Yeah, Kiddo." Devon yawns. "Ooh, we gotta get you up to bed before Mama gets mad." She (they? Xe? Ok, so you're actually really excited for this pronouns thing) groans, the universal sign for kids not wanting to go to bed. "C'mon," you say, getting to your feet, "I'll read you a chapter Harry Potter!" She smiles at that idea and you bend down and scoop her up in your arms like you would a baby. "Alright, come on, wee baby Harry!" you say in your best Hagrid voice. "Let's get you to Hogwarts and then off to dreamland!" With that, you carry her up the steps, both of you laughing.  
\-----  
Later that night, when you and Perry are in bed, you can't stop smiling and laughing about how cool this is. Devon is eight years old and she already has this figured out about herself? And you were able to help??? Wicked cool.  
  
"What are you laughing about?" Perry asks after the fifth time.  
  
You think for a minute, trying to decide what to say. Devon's news is Devon's to break and you won't break it for her unless she asks you to. So you go vague. "Just, our kid's really cool, y'know? Like, Devon's gonna be fine out there in the world. Devon gets it."  
  
Perry rolls over on her side to face you. "Speaking of our child, do you think Devon's non-binary?"  
  
Oh shit. Play it cool, LaFontaine. You answer with a very eloquent "Uhh."  
  
"You do, don't you." It isn't a question.  
  
"Well, I mean, I can kind of see it, but we don't know for sure yet. We'll have to, uh, wait for her to tell us, I guess." You don't look at Perry. If you look at Perry you'll spill the beans and you'd feel really bad about that. Unfortunately, your tone of voice already seems to have given you away, as Perry squints and props herself up on one elbow, the better to look into your eyes.  
  
"Oh my god. She said something to you, didn't she?"  
  
Your silence and lack of eye contact give you, and your kid, away.  
  
Perry smacks your arm. "LaFontaine!"  
  
"You have to act surprised," you tell her, turning your head suddenly to face her and pleading with your eyes. "You have to act like you didn't see this coming, or at least like you didn't hear it from me. If you had your own suspicions, which you obviously did," you give her a pointed look, "tell her about them but leave me out of it."  
  
"LaFontaine, you know I wouldn't drag your name into this!" Perry says. You shoot her another pointed look and she flusters. "Well, ok, maybe that was good advice. But you know I wouldn't do it to make it seem like you betrayed her trust! I'm guessing she told you to keep this from me..." She trails off, looking worried and sort of sad.  
  
You prop yourself up on your elbow and put your other arm around her, rubbing her back. "No! No no no it wasn't anything like that! She was scared to tell you, yeah, but that's probably because you aren't non-binary. Dev came to me probably because I have the personal experience, but she didn't know that you have just as much experience with gender stuff by extension." Perry's still not looking at you, lost in thought. Her lips are pursed just like Dev's, but her forehead has creases in it where Devon's just stays smooth. "Also," you say, "she only told me like, an hour and a half ago. Telling both your parents--separately--that you're non-binary in the same night is a lot, especially for an eight-year-old."  
  
Perry looks at you then, right into your eyes, and says "Yes, but, what if she doesn't want to tell me?" It's a sort of irrational fear, given how supportive Perry is of you and how she doesn't tolerate intolerance of any sort, but then you've learned that Perry is the queen of irrational fears. And hey, you didn't want to tell your parents for almost a year after you told Perry, so you guess the fear is kind of grounded.  
  
"She'll tell you," you reassure her, but she looks away again, still worried. "Perr," you prompt, to no avail. "Lola." It's one of the rare moments that you use her first name. It makes her look at you, and you can see tears in her eyes. You know that she's not upset because Devon's not cisgender, she's just upset that she might not be a good mother. "Lola, you are a fantastic mom, and I should know." You smile and raise your eyebrows and her lips quirk up a little at the edges. Perry's mothered you possibly even more than your actual mother, and she was pretty sheltering. "When I mentioned you when we were talking, she acted like she hadn't even gotten as far as telling you in her grand scheme of things, which tells me that she's focusing on one thing at a time here. She figured it out, freaked out a little, and the first person she thought to tell was me, probably because I was what prompted her figuring it out. I told her how you actually probably know more about gender and its related issues than I do, then told her to take her time, but not to wait too long to tell you." Perry doesn't seem cheered up, so you wink and add "I may have bribed her with pronouns."  
  
She actually smiles then. "LaFontaine," she says, "you didn't."  
  
"I totally did, Perr. She seemed pretty excited, too. Or at least, like she would be if she hadn't been so freaked out..."  
  
"I'm sure she would be," says Perry, whose mind seems to be more at ease now. "Ok," she says, "so we have to be able to provide the kind of support Dev needs. We may have experience with the personal aspects of being non-binary--you having experienced it and me having been an ally since you told me about yourself--but the world has changed and we're going to have to do some research." She tries to duck out from under your arm and climb out of bed but you stop her.  
  
"Perr, what are you doing? We have time, ok? At least give her a chance to talk to you before you go all 'grad student with a paper due tomorrow' on her!"  
  
She sighs, but climbs back in bed. "You're right, you're right, I'm getting too caught up in this. We can take it slow, do this right."  
  
"Yeah, it's not like you haven't raised a non-binary kid before," you joke.  
  
"Yes, but those," she says, leaning over to peck you on the lips, "were completely different circumstances."  
  
"And ain't I glad for it."  
  
"Grammar, LaFontaine."  
  
"And this is what I meant about mothering me."  
  
The two of you fall back on your pillows and look up at the ceiling. "So how'd you figure it out?" you ask Perry.  
  
She pokes you in the side. "LaFontaine, I grew up with you. Dev may look like me, but she acts like you did."  
  
Devon looks like Perry because Perry carried her. You liked kids, sure, even thought about having them (mostly for Perry), but never did you want to give birth to a human being from-- Well let's just say that the whole thing kinda squicked you out. Luckily, Perry didn't mind, so the two of you found a donor and, well, the rest is history. Sure, there are really cool biology procedures where you could have contributed to the DNA with your bone marrow (how sweet is that?!?), but they were expensive and complicated and you both know that Dev's more like you anyway.  
  
"Yeah, that makes sense. I kinda picked up on all that too." You roll over and look at her seriously. "You're ok with all this?" you ask her, scrutinizing her expression to get to the truth.  
  
"Well," Perry draws out the word, "it will take some getting used to, but yes, of course I'm ok with it."  
  
You lean over and kiss her, a kiss to tell her how glad you are that _she’s_ the woman you fell in love with, she and all her determination and order and willingness to accept people, whatever their differences.  
  
"I love you, Perr," you say.  
  
"I love you too, LaFontaine," she replies as you wrap your right arm around her and pull her under your chin. You fall asleep to the sound of her breathing and the knowledge that the two of you can work through anything, as long as you’re together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I really like writing these two. I also feel like Perry and LaF would totally name their kid a unisex name because they knew something like this could happen.


End file.
